


It Will Always Be. As It Always Was.

by bansheequeen (queenbanshee), xtremeroswellian



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banshee Lydia Martin, Canon Compliant, Damnit, Emotional Tether(s), F/M, and yes stydia before the end of the fic, because after that crap they pulled on 5x17, brief mention of Malia Tate, he still loves her, post-episode 5x16 lie ability, spoilers for 5x16, stydia fluff af, we all deserve it, we have suffered enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:12:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenbanshee/pseuds/bansheequeen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post-Lie Ability, Stiles helps Lydia recover post-Eichen and the two of them become closer again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The rest of the night is mostly a blur for her. Between Deaton and Melissa checking on her and making sure she was okay, her mom hovering guiltily by her side and the Sheriff urging both Scott and Stiles to go home and get some rest, she really didn’t get to talk to them. To thank them. 

But now that she’s at home, finally _clean_ and in her bed, there’s one thing she can’t stop thinking about: the look on Stiles’ face when she opened her eyes back at the clinic. There was a fear there that felt so-- familiar. She can’t quite explain it. And as exhausted as she is -- mentally and physically -- she pushes herself up from the bed slowly and over to her vanity where her phone is still charging. 

With a deep breath, she sits down and for a long moment, she stares at the screen. Hesitating. She’s never hesitated before sending Stiles a text before. But right now, it feels-- _different_. She can’t help the soft smile that appears on her face as she reads the last few texts he sent her. 

_Lydia. I’m serious. CALL ME BACK._  
Goddammit, Lydia! Would it kill you to pick up your phone just once?  
Seriously why does anyone in this pack bother having a cellphone at all?  
LYDIA?  
L  
Y  
D  
I  
A  
CALL ME! 

All unanswered, of course. But she can hear his voice in her head, his frustration and worry increasing message after message. That same worry she saw on his face earlier in the clinic…

And that thought is enough to make her smile slip and her eyes tear up a little. It takes another deep breath from her before she adjusts the phone in her hands and finally types the message.

 _I guess my reply is a little delayed. I just wanted to thank you. I’m home and I’m okay. :)_

It hardly feels like enough. Like what she wants to tell him. She suddenly wants nothing more than to talk to him and make sure _he_ is okay. She wants to ask him everything she missed while she was in there. She wants to tell him everything she learned. And she wants him to know how much it means to her, everything he did to _save her life_. 

But-- it’s three in the morning and _hopefully_ he listened to the Sheriff and he’s actually home getting some rest. So Lydia wipes away the tears that are threatening to spill from her eyes, sighs softly and finally presses _send_.  
The response is almost immediate. 

_Why are you awake? You should be resting. Are you sure you’re okay?_

She jumps when the phone vibrates over the table, arching her eyebrows a little as she picks it up and cocks her head.

_Just haven’t been able to fall asleep yet._

But she’s only been home for about an hour and she still had to shower and that was a long process, especially washing her hair, which begs the question:

_Why aren’t you sleeping? You must be exhausted._

This time there’s a short pause before he responds. _I’m outside in your driveway._

Her eyes widen when she sees _that_ text message. Lydia stands up slowly, phone in hand, and makes her way over to her window. Sure enough, there’s the jeep, and there’s a Stiles sitting inside of it. For a second, she just stares at him, a soft smile appearing on her lips as she shakes her head. Then the turns her attention back to her phone.

_Well, are you planning on coming inside?_

Stiles climbs out of the driver’s side of the jeep and looks up at her window when he sees her standing there. He lifts his hand in a slight wave, a relieved smile pulling at his mouth. He slides his phone into his jeans pocket and slowly heads toward the front door, waiting for her to come down, starting when it opens much sooner than it anticipated, considering she’s still not moving that fast. 

He grows still when he sees Natalie Martin standing in front of him. “Uhhh.” 

“I was wondering if you were just planning on sitting out there all night,” she tells him, holding the door open halfway.

He doesn’t exactly know what to say because he hadn’t really been prepared to see Lydia’s mom. “I was thinking about it?” He doesn’t step any closer to the door. The last two times he’s gone to see Lydia, she’s thrown him out. He knows things may be different now since she seems to be in on things, and she knows that they’d gone in to break Lydia out of Eichen, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be thrilled to see him again so soon. She probably wants him to stay as far away as physically possible considering how much trouble Lydia keeps getting into because of all the supernatural drama. 

And because he’s a big part of the reason she’d been dragged into it to begin with. “I’ll go.” 

“Stiles.” Natalie calls out to him, opening the door and stepping aside to make room for him to come into the house.

Stiles hesitates for a second, then nods and steps into the house, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “I know it’s late. Early. Whichever.” But he hadn’t been ready to let Lydia out of his sight yet. Not after everything. Not after how close she’d been to dying so many different times tonight. 

“I was gonna say you could wait here until she wakes up, but--” she glances upstairs when the floor creaks. “Don’t come downstairs, sweetheart. I’ve got the door!”

His gaze shoots toward the stairs when he hears the floor creak, too, and he takes a step toward them almost unconsciously, then stops again. “She texted me. I wouldn’t have -- come up otherwise.” 

Natalie takes a deep breath as she focuses on Stiles, her voice a little softer than before. “Looks like it’s impossible to try and keep the two of you apart.” 

Stiles looks down at that, for a moment. Then he takes a deep breath of his own and draws back his shoulders, fixing her with an intent look. “If she wants me to leave her alone, I’ll make myself scarce.” He shakes his head. “I realize you don’t like me, and I get it. I wouldn’t ever do anything to intentionally hurt her. Not… _her._ ” 

“I trust my daughter’s ability to kick you out if she doesn’t want you here, Stiles,” she says, tone drier once again. And then her expression changes as she takes a deep breath, posture a little less strict, shoulders down. 

“What I was _going_ to say is-- I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you were trying to help her before.” There’s a weight of guilt in her voice that she can’t really hold back. “I’m glad Lydia has friends that care about her as much as you do.” 

The first part of her words almost gets a smile out of him. But not quite. Part of him wants to lash out at her because he’s not a forgiving kind of person, and as far as he’s concerned she had a pretty big role in all the injuries and trauma Lydia’s gone through. He also thinks she’s already aware of that and making her feel worse won’t make him feel any better. So he just nods, falling silent for a moment. 

“And I get why you didn’t want me -- any of us -- around her.” He does. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t want a version of him around his kid either. “The stuff in Beacon Hills is dangerous. But I’m -- I’m always going to try and keep her safe. I promise.” 

“I won’t stand in your way next time.” Her tone is still thick with guilt, but sincere as she nods toward the stairs again. “Go, before she tries to come down after you.” 

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck and moving toward the stairs. He definitely doesn’t want Lydia to try coming down the stairs in her condition. “You should talk to my dad and Melissa McCall. And uh -- Chris Argent. Maybe some kind of supernatural catch-up pow-wow for the parents.” He tries to smile but then turns and heads up the steps, taking them two at a time.

Lydia is actually right there, sitting on the top step of the stairs. A soft smile appears on her lips when she sees Stiles rushing his way up. Most of the time, she can’t help but wonder how he manages to look both graceful and like he’s about to fall on his face at the same time. With a deep breath, she pushes herself up on her feet. Slowly, but definitely steady. 

He gets there in time to help her finish standing, an arm slipping easily around her waist, encouraging her to lean into him for support. “Hi,” he greets her, this time actually managing a smile even though his eyes are full of ever-present worry over her condition. 

“Hey,” she says quietly, her smile widening a little as she cocks her head to look at him better. “Glad she let you stay this time,” she adds quietly as she starts toward her room.

That gives him pause and his eyes widen a little before he follows her. “Wait, you remember that?” He hadn’t thought she was conscious enough to really know what was happening around her either time. He follows her into her bedroom without a second thought, like he belongs there. 

“Not vividly?” Once they step into the bedroom, she starts toward her bed. “Can you get the door? Anyway, I remember you coming into my room and I remember looking at you, but I couldn’t understand what you were saying.”

She sits down on her bed, looking over at him even as she does. “And Eichen-- it was kinda like an out of body experience.” 

He closes the bedroom door behind him quietly and watches as she sits down. He moves to sit down in the chair beside her, nodding. “I couldn’t tell at Eichen if you knew I was there or not,” he admits quietly. 

“It was like--” she purses her lips together, considering her words. It’s not exactly something easy to explain, especially not without sounding like she does belong in Eichen. Lucky for her though, she doesn’t have to worry about Stiles thinking that of her. “Some days, when you came, I was right there with you, standing behind you, watching you talk to me. And some days I could just hear your voice from a distance while I was training with Meredith.” 

He doesn’t think she’s crazy. Not after everything they’ve been through together. Not after everything she went through there in general. “I uh -- I kinda get that, actually. It was like that for me with the nogitsune.” His voice is quiet and he drops his gaze for a moment. 

“Oh. I didn’t realize it was like watching from the outside.” She assumed at the time that it was like being trapped in his own mind. But then again, that’s not so different than what happened to her. The main difference is that there wasn’t anyone else controlling her actual body. “I’m sorry, Stiles. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” 

“No, it’s fine,” he says immediately, shaking his head and looking up at her again. “You should talk about it. I want you to. I mean if you want to.”

“There’s not much more to say, I guess? Meredith helped me find control and-- I don’t know where she is, Stiles.” And now she’s more than a little worried about the other banshee.

“She’s okay. Scott and Liam saw her in there. She helped us find you. Well, she helped Scott find you by telling him to find Parrish, who...burned through the mountain ash ward and that’s how he found us down there.” Just in time, in fact. 

Lydia sighs softly and nods, making a mental note to check in on Meredith as soon as she can move a little faster. Even if she’s not looking forward to going back there. At all. “Is everyone else okay? Kira? Malia?” 

“Everyone’s okay,” he assures her, reaching out and taking her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He doesn’t know the details of what happened with Malia and Kira, or even the full story on what went on with Scott and Liam, but at the end of the day they were all still standing. The details can wait. All he cares about is they all made it out, and Lydia’s safe again.

Her face brightens again as soon as he reaches for her hand. Lydia wraps her fingers around his, looking at their hands for a second. “And your brilliant plan for the rest of the evening was to sit in your car outside and get no rest whatsoever?”

“It always looks better on paper than in reality,” he admits with a tiny smile and a shrug. Things never go according to plan. Ever. It’s why they always had a Plan B. Sometimes they get lucky and Plan Be actually works, like it had tonight. He drops his gaze to their hands, too. “I guess I wasn’t really ready to...be away from you yet.” 

Lydia holds her breath at that, lifting her eyes from their hands to his face, her heart skipping a beat as she nods slightly. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

Stiles meets her eyes, his chest tightening at the memory of how she’d been so still at the clinic. How for one horrible moment, he’d thought he was going to have to figure out a way to live in a world without Lydia Martin in it. He rises to his feet and moves to sit beside her instead, wrapping his arms around her and closing his eyes. “I missed you,” he whispers.

She doesn’t question it for a second. As soon as he comes closer, when he sits next to her and wraps his arms around her, she doesn’t hesitate before wrapping her arms around him, too. Lydia leans against his chest, closing her eyes when they start tearing up. She has lost count how many times she felt their deaths in the past few days. Their names gone from the library. The overwhelming screams in her head. The blood in his ear. It was _so close_. And the threat is still not gone. But for now, he’s there. And they’re all safe. And she’s grateful that he’s okay. 

“I missed you too,” she whispers quietly, shifting a little closer to him and taking a deep, shaky breath. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

He nods against her, tightening his arms around her just a bit, protectively and resting his chin atop her head. It feels like it’s been forever since the last time he’s hugged her and now he doesn’t really want to let go. He’s afraid that if he does, he’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream. That she’ll still be trapped in Eichen House, or worse yet, that last scream would have been a signal of her own death. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, too.” His voice is a little strained now. “Lydia, if you hadn’t been…” He swallows heavily. “I don’t think I could do this without you.” 

“Stiles…” her eyes tear up more and she pulls her head back to look at him. “I felt your death coming _so many times_ since you got there.” She sniffs quietly, shaking her head, her eyes wide, pleading. “You can’t just-- throw yourself at danger like that anymore.” 

Stiles meets her eyes and doesn’t think about it before lifting a hand to her cheek. “I wasn’t gonna leave you there. I couldn’t. Neither was anyone else.” 

“I know,” she whispers quietly, leaning into his touch. Her chest and stomach tight as she looks back at him, holding his gaze for a moment as she hesitates before forcing herself to tell him the truth. Because-- what if she doesn’t get to tell him _later_? “But I can’t do this without you either.” 

His eyes brighten just a little at that and he takes a breath, exhaling slowly and brushing his thumb gently over her skin. “Well, we do make a pretty great team.” 

Lydia smiles softly at him and nods as she reaches up to cup his hand, her eyes still on him. “You do need some help with your plans.”

His lips curve up into a smile. “Yes, I do. Definitely. Always.” He hesitantly leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I should let you rest.” 

Lydia holds her breath and tenses immediately at his words. And her own words roll out of her lips before she can stop herself. “Can you stay here? With me?” The idea of being on her own is terrifying all of the sudden and as hard as her mom has been trying since they got home, she just doesn’t get it. Not many people would. Not the way Stiles does.

“I wasn’t really...planning to leave,” he admits. “Even if it meant camping out in my jeep the rest of the night. Is that weird?” It’s probably a little weird, but...Lydia knows him. She knows he’s weird. She accepts it.

“Probably?” She smiles a little, but it’s still tense. “I’d prefer if you stayed where you are.” On her bed. Which is probably more than a little weird too.

He wants to ease that tension that’s crept into her expression. “I’d prefer that, too.” He glances toward the door, then rises to his feet, taking his shoes off. “What about your mom? Will she kick me out?” 

“I won’t let her,” she promises quietly, watching him closely. She’s not quite relaxed yet, but she does manage to take a deep breath. “Besides. She told you she wouldn’t.” 

Stiles pauses at that, glancing at her before he carefully sits down again. “How much of that did you hear?” 

Lydia takes another deep breath and shifts on the bed, pulling the covers down so she can lean more comfortably against the pillows. “I was at the top of the stairs when she told me to stay upstairs, so it was kinda hard to miss?”

She purses her lips together and shakes her head. “It’s really hard on her, Stiles. She means well. But she doesn’t know how to deal with things she doesn’t understand and she can’t control. And-- to think a bunch of kids know what’s better for her daughter than she does? I’m kinda proud of her for actually managing to apologize to you.” 

“I know. I get it. My dad was the same way.” His voice is quiet. “He was freaked out, and in denial and I think for about thirty seconds he thought he could keep me out of all the supernatural stuff but then he remembered my best friend is a _werewolf_ and...well, to be honest half the time he likes Scott more than me, so.” He offers her a lopsided smile. “Obviously that wasn’t going to work out too well.” 

“Definitely not,” she agrees quietly, reaching for his hand once he’s settled on the bed again. There’s something incredibly relaxing about being able to hold his hand and be reminded that he’s really there. “Maybe he can talk to her and help her understand. But she might need a few more days to work through things on her own.”

“Yeah. She and my dad and Melissa and Argent should talk. Start a club or something.” He looks down at their hands, and turns his, linking their fingers together. “She’ll work through it. They all do. And maybe...it’ll make you guys closer.” 

“Yeah. I think that’ll help,” she tells him quietly, glancing down at their hands too and taking a deep breath, this time, she manages to let it out evenly, calmly as she relaxes again. “Thank you for staying.” 

If it was truly up to him, he’d never leave her side again. He offers her a soft smile and squeezes her hand, glancing at the pillows and then back at her. “Should we get more comfortable?” He knows she needs her rest so she can heal. Unlike werewolves, or kitsunes or werecoyotes, banshee’s don’t have any fast healing powers. He wishes like hell they did. 

“Yeah.” She smiles over at him and lets go of her hand so she can adjust the pillows. And then she pauses and focuses on him again. “Do you need anything?” Because she’s still Lydia Martin, after all. And she’s a good hostess. Even if it means telling him where to find whatever he needs because it’ll probably be five times faster.

“I’m good,” he tells her, hesitating a second before crawling over to the other side of the bed so he can lie down beside her. “Do you need anything? Can I get you something? Water or pain pills or anything?” 

“I’m good,” she echoes, watching as he gets into bed for a second before sliding down herself and laying on her side so that she’s both facing him and so that the side of her head that is hurt isn’t pressed against the pillow. “Melissa said she’d come by in the morning to check on me.” 

“That’s good,” he answers, shifting so he’s on his side facing her, too. He searches her eyes, then moves a little closer to her, reaching down and tugging the blankets up and over them. “She’s a good one to have around when you don’t feel well. Or when you fall out of a tree and break your arm.” He smiles a bit.

She smiles a little more and nods, shifting a little closer to him. “Yeah, I’m sure that has happened to you a lot over the years. A _lot_.” Because she can’t help but think back to when she was watching him climb the stairs. Graceful and about to fall on his face.

He narrows his eyes a little at that, but then smirks and shrugs. “I only broke my arm the one time for your information.” 

“When was that? Sixth grade?” she asks quietly, arching her eyebrows with a soft smile on her lips as she watches him closely. “I just vaguely remember how big that cast looked on you.” 

Stiles smiles. “Yeah, sixth. It was bright orange and I cried when they cut it off because this girl I liked signed it and I wanted to keep it.” 

“Really?” Her face softens as she watches him. Most people wouldn’t know how sweet Stiles can be underneath all the sarcasm. “Who was it?”

He prefers most people have no clue about that. She’s the exception. She’s always been the exception. He arches his eyebrows at her a little. “ _You._ ” 

She pauses at that, her smile slipping a little as she looks at him, but not completely. Yes, he had a crush on her once upon a time, but he’s _Stiles_ now. Everything is different. She cares about him pretty much more than she cares about anyone else right now. He’s the person who saved her life more times than she can count in the past twenty four hours. It’s a little jarring to think she meant something to him so long before she actually noticed him. And now he means so much to her.

Her eyes tear up a little and she takes a deep breath as she lifts her arm, showing him her hospital bracelet. “I’d have you sign it for me, but I don’t wanna cry in front of people when they cut it out.” 

His expression softens at her words and he holds his breath for a moment, reaching out and taking her hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing her knuckles softly. “Yeah, well, I definitely don’t ever want to be the reason Lydia Martin cries,” he whispers. “No matter how beautiful she looks when she cries.” 

Lydia brushes her fingers over his hand gently, watching him with a soft smile on her lips. “Crying isn’t always bad, Stiles.” Right now, the tears in her eyes are mostly of overwhelming relief that they’re both there.

“I know.” His mom had taught him that at an early age. It’s why he doesn’t tend to feel like he has to hold back his own tears when they come. 

“Let’s get some rest, okay?” she whispers quietly to him, then nods at the light on his side of the bed. “Can you get that?” 

Stiles nods, giving her hand a squeeze before shifting in the bed and turning over just enough to shut the lamp off. Then he turns back toward her once more, intertwining their fingers again. “Night, Lydia,” he whispers.

“Night, Stiles,” she whispers back, pulling his hand closer and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it before sighing deeply and closing her eyes.

 

* * * 

It’s just past ten in the morning when Melissa knocks on the door of the Martin residence. Her shift at the hospital doesn’t start for another couple of hours but she wanted to stop by with plenty of time because-- you never know what kind of symptoms will show up when it comes to the supernatural. 

And no. She didn’t miss the very familiar blue jeep parked in the driveway.

Natalie answers the door a few moments later, already dressed for the day, even if she is looking a little more tired than usual. “Hello, Melissa. Please, come in.” She steps aside to let her in the house. 

“Hi, Natalie.” She smiles at the other woman and nods at her as she steps inside with her bag. At the very least, she’ll change the bandages. “I see I’m not the first one here. Any surprises?” She hates surprises at this point.

“No, thankfully not. I just checked on her a few minutes ago.” She purses her lips. “They’re both sleeping still.” As in Stiles had spent the night in her daughter’s room, in her daughter’s bed, and somehow she couldn’t find the nerve to be upset about it. Not after everything last night.

“Ah-ham,” Melissa says, nodding carefully as she watches Natalie’s reaction to that information. “And how are you doing with everything?”

She offers Melissa a wan smile. “I’m considering becoming a functional alcoholic,” she responds, mostly joking. Mostly.

“We do alcohol Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and recreational drugs on the weekends, you’re welcome to join us,” Melissa jokes back with a smile.

Natalie chuckles softly at that and motions to the kitchen. “Can I interest you in a plain old cup of coffee for now? Give her a little more time to sleep? If you have the time of course.” 

“I never say no to coffee,” Melissa tells her, following her into the kitchen. “And I don’t have to be at the hospital until noon, so we can let the kids sleep for a while longer.”

“Good. I have a feeling they both need it.” She smiles faintly and moves to the coffee pot.

“I don’t know how these kids do it,” Melissa says honestly, shaking her head with a soft sigh. “All this insanity and this responsibility. But they manage somehow. They’re good kids, Natalie. And they’re good _together_. All of them.”

She pauses at that, smiles faintly as she pours two cups of coffee. “Yes. I’m starting to see that.” 

Melissa smiles back at her and nods a little. “Doesn’t mean they don’t deserve to be grounded sometimes, though. Especially the boys.”

“Well, right now I’m leaning more toward giving them some kind of outstanding citizen awards,” she admits. “I don’t think Lydia would have survived another night in that place.” 

Melissa sighs deeply at that and shakes her head. “I try not to think about all of the close calls. I’ve seen Scott dead twice already. I never want to go through that again.” 

Natalie looks startled at that, eyes widening. “How do you go through it at all?” 

“I don’t know. I try not to ask too many questions. I let them help me and tell me what I need to know to help them. I trust them, I have to.” She sighs deeply and shakes her head. “There are things we’ll never understand, so we have to look to them and do our best when they need us.”

She sighs softly, nodding and handing Melissa one of the cups of coffee before picking up her own. “I feel like I’ve just woken up in the middle of some kind of horror movie and I don’t understand the plot.” 

“Thank you,” Melissa says as she takes the cup from her. “My advice? Don’t try to understand it all at once. Talk to Lydia, talk to us. Understand what she is, understand what’s happening right now. Little by little, you’ll put the big pieces together. But leave the details to the kids. They’ll ask for help when they need it.”

It sounds like good advice, even if she knows it’s going to be a struggle. She’s silent for a moment, and then she looks over at the other woman. “And Stiles. He’s someone I can trust with her, isn’t he?” Her voice grows more quiet.

Melissa visibly relaxes at the change of topic and smiles. “When Stiles was eight years old, he came over to the house and showed me a Valentine’s Day card he had made for the smartest girl in school. It was the first time I heard the boys talking about girls. And it was the first time I heard about Lydia. He never stopped talking about her since. He’s always cared about her, one way or another. And Stiles, for all his sarcasm and attitude, he’s a good kid.” 

Natalie relaxes at her words, a soft smile touching her mouth as she glances past her toward the stairs. Somehow she’s not entirely surprised that the friendship is more than that. “He does treat her very well,” she murmurs thoughtfully. 

“I don’t think there’s anything Stiles _wouldn’t_ do for Lydia,” Melissa adds sincerely.


	2. Chapter 2

He wakes slowly to the feel of sunlight on his face and he turns his head toward it just a little, eyebrows furrowing. He never falls asleep with his blinds open. It takes him a few seconds later to realize that he’s not alone, and that he’s not in his room in his bed. His walls definitely aren’t mauve and his mattress isn’t this soft. 

Stiles holds his breath for a second as he gazes down to where Lydia’s head is resting on his chest, her hair fanned out over him and the pillow he’s lying on. Her arm is draped around his waist, and both of his arms are wrapped around her. 

Oh. 

Lydia sighs deeply when she feels the movement, not quite waking up just yet as she presses a little closer, tightening her arm around him just a little more before her body relaxes once more.

He closes his eyes once more, the events of last night flashing through his mind. Unconsciously he rubs her back just a little, more to reassure himself that she’s really there, alive and safe, than anything else. 

This time, she shivers a little at his touch against her back. Not necessarily an unpleasant reaction, and makes a quiet noise as she opens her eyes slowly. Her body is stiff, like she hasn’t really moved in a long time, but she doesn’t _want_ to move because for the first time in what feels like a very long time, she’s _warm_ and comfortable and--

“Stiles,” she whispers quietly as she looks up at him, squinting. Not entirely sure if he’s real at all.

Stiles offers her a gentle smile, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear. “Morning,” he whispers back.

She just stares at him for a long moment, a soft smile appearing on her lips before she snuggles a little closer again and closes her eyes once more. This feels real enough to her and for the time being, she doesn’t want to move. 

He rests his hand on the back of her head, careful to avoid the injury site as he closes his eyes again, too, and wondering if this is really happening. “We survived, didn’t we?” he murmurs.

“I think we did,” she whispers after a moment, keeping her eyes closed as she focuses on his heartbeat just under her ear. It’s soothing in more ways than one. 

He nods, stroking her hair absently. “Cool.” 

She smiles a little more at his reaction and eventually after a long moment she lifts her head just a little. There’s some pain there, and while she winces, she does her best to ignore it. “Did you sleep okay?”

Stiles’ eyes reflect concern when she winces and he shifts, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her better. “I slept fine. We should make sure everything’s fine with you, though.” 

Lydia takes a deep breath when he props himself up and forces herself to sit up, wincing again despite her best attempt not to. Her head _is_ pounding, but she assumes that’s normal, at the very least.

“I’m conscious and I don’t feel like I need to scream loud enough to kill everyone within a ten mile radius, I think it’s a considerable improvement,” she says quietly, trying for a lighter tone but the truth is, that’s why she asked him to stay. She was terrified of not being able to wake up again. Of being trapped in her own head again. 

He tries not to let the words make him feel like he’s been kicked in the gut. More than that, he tries not to let that show on his face. He sits up the rest of the way, keeping his eyes on her. “That’s -- yeah, definitely good. How’s your head though?” 

She notices the look on his face, though and her smile slips a little. She probably looks pretty terrible. “Headache.” Understatement of the century. “I’m guessing Melissa will be here soon, though.” 

“Yeah, probably.” He glances at the clock momentarily. “Oh. We may have missed her.” It’s almost noon. He looks back at her, reaches for her hand without really thinking about it. It just feels natural. “Are you hungry at all? I could go fix something and bring it up.” 

“Oh.” She glances at the clock too, her fingers curling around his hand automatically when he takes her hand. Her face softens again at his offer and she turns to look at him once more. “You don’t have to make me anything, Stiles. I can probably come downstairs with you, anyway.” 

“I don’t mind,” he says honestly. “I cook for my dad sometimes.” His mouth turns up in a tiny smile. “And maybe you shouldn’t...move around too much yet? You know?” 

“I know.” She can’t help but smile back at him. “I just don’t wanna be stuck here all day.” And she knows that Stiles will have to leave eventually. 

He draws in a breath and nods, reluctantly tossing his legs over the side of the bed and moving around to her side of it, holding his hand out to her to help her up. “Okay. Then we’ll go together.” 

Her face brightens as she looks up at him, taking his hand and standing up slowly, her eyes on his face as she moves. “You still don’t have to cook, though. I think you’ve done more than enough.” 

As soon as she’s on her feet, he slides his arm around her waist to give her better support. He’s relieved that this time they don’t have to rush. That they can make their way out of her room and down the stairs without fearing anyone from Eichen was going to chase them, or that Theo was going to come after and kill them, or that she was going to drop dead right beside him. “We could order delivery,” he suggests. 

“My mom probably left us something if she’s not here.” Not that’s really hungry, but she knows she probably should eat. Especially since she wants to take those pain killers. She leans into Stiles, arm wrapped tightly around him as they approach the stairs since her balance isn’t all that great right now.

But then she hears voices and her face instantly pales and she stills. With wide eyes, she looks up at him. “You hear that too, right?”

His arm tightens around her just a little at the fear in her voice. In her eyes. “Yeah, I hear it. I think it’s your mom and Melissa,” he assures her. He definitely hears Melissa’s voice. He’s glad she’s still there so she can check on Lydia and make sure she’s healing the way she’s supposed to be. To make sure she’s going to be okay. 

“Oh,” she breathes quietly, relaxing a little. The voices are a little muffled so it was hard to tell. She gives Stiles a small smile and continues down the stairs with him. It’s late, but she’s also glad Melissa is still there. She trusts her more than a doctor who doesn’t know anything about-- everything else that happened.

Stiles gives her hip a reassuring squeeze as they make their way down the steps slowly. “Look who’s awake,” he announces cheerfully, mostly to get the women’s attention in case they’re talking about things Lydia doesn’t need to overhear. 

Natalie looks up, glancing over at Melissa momentarily and then rising to her feet. “Hi, Sweetheart. How are you feeling?” 

“I’m okay, mom,” Lydia says automatically but with a soft smile. Her mom is already kicking herself enough as it is. And it’s not like she can’t do much about her headache. “Hi, Melissa.” 

“Hi, Lydia,” she greets back as she stands up too, looking at the two teenagers but making her way toward Lydia. “I was about to come wake the two of you up myself. Good timing. You need to sit down. C’mon,” she says, taking the girl gently by the arm.

Stiles reluctantly lets Melissa pull Lydia away from him so she can check her over. He chews his thumbnails, eyes glued to the banshee intently as he hovers a few feet away. He glances over at Natalie momentarily and then back at Lydia and Melissa. “How’s she doing?” he asks anxiously. 

Natalie almost smiles but moves to sit beside Lydia. 

“Looking much better than yesterday already,” Melissa says as she checks Lydia’s eyes, smiling down at the girl. “I’m glad you actually listened when I told you to get some real rest, Lydia. Scott and Stiles never do.” 

Lydia grins softly up at Melissa and nods before she goes back to looking at Stiles, her expression brightening a little more. “Yeah, I know.” 

Stiles widens his eyes and gives them his best innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Mhmm,” Melissa says to Stiles before looking at Lydia again. “Bandage looks clean, which is good, how are you doing on pain? And don’t put on a brave face, or I won’t give you the good stuff.” 

Lydia finally looks away from Stiles and focuses on Melissa, hesitating for a second then taking a deep breath and nods. “My head is pounding. It’s more like a physical pain than a migraine but there’s a lot of pressure. Makes my vision blurry sometimes.”

Stiles goes back to chewing on his thumbnail, stepping a little closer without thinking about it, eyes focused on Lydia once more. 

Natalie, too, moves closer, and then sits down beside her daughter, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Is that normal, Melissa?” 

With a deep breath, Melissa nods a little. “The blurry vision is most likely because of the pain, but if it doesn’t go away in a day or two, we’ll have to bring you in and make sure there’s no permanent damage.” She focuses on Natalie, then Stiles. “The most important thing right now is to make sure she doesn’t have seizures or any kind of blackouts.” 

Then she turns her attention back to Lydia. “Which means, we’ll need someone watching you 24/7 for the next two days. Since we don’t know exactly when the procedure was done, we’ll count 48 hours from when the boys got you out, to be on the safe side.” 

Lydia purses her lips together and nods slightly, glancing at her mom for a second then hesitating and looking up at Stiles. Melissa pretty much volunteered him, but--

Natalie grimaces a little, looking worried. “I do have a meeting I have to go to this afternoon, but I can take tomorrow and the next day off -- “

“I can stay,” Stiles interrupts, glancing between all three of the women. “Uh, I mean, I haven’t really had time to study for the chemistry exam tomorrow anyway so if I take it I’m gonna bomb it and then I have zero chance of being second in class.” A tiny smile touches his mouth as he looks at Lydia. “I’ll just need some kind of excuse from someone official.” He glances at Melissa and then Natalie with raised eyebrows.

Lydia relaxes a little as she smiles up at Stiles before turning back to look at her mom hopefully. “I can help him study for the make up exam.”

“Is this my first official supernatural related coverup?” Natalie asks wryly, looking between them and then at Melissa. 

“Welcome to the club, the excuses won’t get any easier,” Melissa tells her with a smirk.

Stiles looks at Lydia and grins, eyes brighter than they have been in awhile. 

 

* * *

 

Lydia finishes the exercise on her notebook and glances at the stack of everything they’ve already worked on. She hasn’t been to school in a while but in a couple of hours she’s already finished most of her homework. Melissa told her to take it slow but that exercising her brain was probably a good idea as long as she doesn’t push herself too hard and-- AP biology is hardly pushing herself too hard. 

With a soft sigh, she looks over at Stiles’ work and purses her lips together. “How’s it going?” she asks quietly, not wanting to interrupt him if he’s not at a good stopping point.

Stiles glances over at her when she sighs, and offers her a soft smile. “It’s all right. Chemistry isn’t my favorite subject. No offense to your mom.” He watches her for a moment. “You doing okay? Need anything?” 

“More homework?” She gives him a soft smile. “I’m done. Want me to help you with yours?” Because honestly, she’s been idle for what feels like so long, she really doesn’t want to sit and watch him do his own.

“Lydia Martin. Are you propositioning me to do my homework?” he jokes. 

“ _No_ , of course not. How are you going to compete with me if you don’t learn?” Lydia smirks a little at him then shifts her chair a little closer to his, glancing down at his notebook then over at his face again. “I’m offering _help_. And I’m also bored.”   
He gives her a grin and shifts so he’s turned to face her fully. “Well we can’t have that.” He motions to his homework. “I’m most of the way done. Maybe you can check it over for me and make sure I haven’t screwed it up?” 

“You mean I can correct your homework for you so my mom doesn’t have to?” she teases quietly, wrinkling her nose at him, never actually looking down at the notebook as she speaks. “Yeah, I can do that. At least I won’t take any points from you.” 

“And I can hold my rightful second place position in our class and not let Shelly Solomon wiggle her way out of third.” He nods sagely.

“We will never let that happen. Even if we have to have study sessions every day until the end of the semester,” she promises, smiling a little more. Because that really doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.

It doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all. In fact, it sounds pretty damned great. “Great. I can’t imagine how much she’d start gloating if she _did_ bump me down to third.” 

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll blackmail my mom if we have to.” Lydia grins softly at him. “She owes you for watching me, after all.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” he answers with an arched eyebrow before he picks up his paper and holds it out to her, clicking his pen a couple times.

“Hardly.” She holds his gaze for a second, reaching out for the paper but not pulling it from him completely as she purses her lips together for a moment. “Hey, Stiles?”

“Yeah?” He meets her eyes, watching her intently.

“When we’re done here, do you think we could go to the library?” She hesitates for a second, finally looking away from him as she sighs softly and leans against the back of her chair again. “I feel like I _have_ the answer about The Beast in my head, if I can just find the right trigger. Maybe I can get us the information we need.”

His gaze drops instantly and he looks more than a little uncomfortable. He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “What if it’s not a good idea? I mean -- you just got out of Eichen, Lydia. And Melissa says you shouldn’t push anything.” 

And the words ‘what if it saves lives?’ echo in her head, but considering the look on his face, she can’t bring herself to say them out loud. Because she keeps thinking of the way he looked when she opened her eyes back in the clinic and he was terrified. “I know. I just don’t want it to be too late.” 

Right now the life he’s most concerned about saving is hers. He knows they’re all in danger, that the whole town is in trouble, and he knows he should be more worried about that than he is, but right now he’s struggling to see past the fact she’d nearly died right in front of him just two nights ago. He draws in a breath and lets it out slowly. “What if we just go for a little while? And if the pain starts getting _any_ worse, we go immediately back home?” 

Lydia lifts her head to look at him for a moment, her face softening as she reaches over for his hand. “Sounds good.” And like a fair enough compromise. At least she won’t feel like she’s not at least trying to help people. “I promise, the second I feel anything, I’ll let you know.” 

Stiles meets her eyes, then links his fingers through hers. “Maybe after, we can swing by my house and I can grab some stuff. Clean clothes. And uh, make sure my dad’s not eating crap like hot dogs and meat lovers pizza.” He grimaces. 

“Yeah, of course. We can get some groceries and make him a couple of things if you want.” And she might be pushing it as far as looking for things to do. Her energy levels still aren’t back to normal. But she wants to help Stiles if she can. He’s been pretty wonderful to her. 

“Or I can make him a couple things from groceries we already have at the house, and you can be my very beautiful strawberry blonde muse who sits and watches.” Because he is very concerned about how much she’s wanting to do and how far she has to go before she’s recovered. 

Her face softens a little at that and she takes a deep breath. As much as she’d like to help, it’s a sweet and nice compliment to listen to, anyway. “I suppose watching you cook will be enough to keep me entertained, anyway.” 

Stiles gives her a mock scowl. “I’m pretty sure I resent the implication there.” 

“I don’t know _why_.” She smiles more at him, arching an eyebrow. “What I simply mean is that it’s not something I’ve ever experienced before. And no, throwing things in the microwave because Scott is starving while we research doesn’t count.”

“I don’t just microwave for my dad. He has a delicate human stomach and high cholesterol. Hot pockets might work for Scott, but he’s a werewolf and his stomach can handle crap.” He smirks at her. “Prepare to have your socks knocked off. I’m an awesome cook.” 

“I’m looking forward to it.”

 

* * *

 

The library is silent and empty as they make their way inside using Lydia’s keycard. He tries not to see what isn’t actually there as they walk in: fallen scaffolding, and a metal pipe impaling a kid not much older than him who’d been trying to kill him and ended up dead. He tries not to see the blood that’s everywhere -- on the floor, the pipes. 

His hands. 

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, then takes a deep breath and opens them once more. Everything is normal again. No sign of dead bodies or any kind of struggle. He can still feel the blood - dried and settled in -- under his skin. “Where do we start?” His voice is hushed.

Lydia doesn’t make it very far into the library, however. A couple of steps in and she’s reaching for Stiles’ arm, her eyes unfocused, her face pale as she sees it all at once:

_Stiles running into the library, Donovan behind him. Scott and Liam shouting and growling at each other. It’s like it’s all happening in front of her, at the same time. The four of them moving around, running and Theo is there too, twice. Stiles is climbing the scaffolding, Donovan behind him. Scott and Theo are fighting on the floor just beneath them._

_They both happen at the same time. Both deaths. Donovan falls. Theo’s claws dig into Scott’s stomach. Lydia gasps shakily, her eyes up on Stiles, still hanging from the scaffolding until it fades._

She’s breathing heavily, shaking and sweating, her head spinning as she blinks her eyes a few times, trying to find his face again.

As soon as she reaches for his arm, he gives himself a mental punch in the face. He should have known better than to bring her here, especially _now_ , and especially after her powers have been heightened so much. “Shit,” he whispers, turning slightly so he’s facing her instead of just standing beside her and when she sways on her feet, he quickly wraps his arms around her so she doesn’t fall. 

“Lydia. Whoa, hey, easy,” he whispers. 

She turns her head a little and looks up at him, taking a deep breath as she lifts her hands to his upper arms, her eyes locking on him. “When did that happen?”

He drops his gaze when she meets his eyes. “Couple weeks ago. It was -- the night after you got attacked at the station.” 

Lydia just stares at him for a second, her heart is still beating fast. Because she _knows_ just how close to getting to him Donovan was. And then, without warning, she lets go of him and wraps her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

The hug is unexpected but not unwelcomed. He closes his eyes and hugs her back, exhaling. “It’s fine.” 

With a deep, shaky breath, she tightens her arms around him, closing her eyes when they tear up and shaking her head just slightly. “It almost wasn’t.” 

He lifts a hand to rest at the back of her head, nodding slightly. She’s not wrong. It had been close. Really close. A couple seconds more he would have been eaten by a wendigo. Or at least partially eaten. “Yeah. I know.” 

It takes her a while to find it in her to pull away from him. When she does, she pulls away slowly, only to reach up and cup his face. Because she knows Stiles. She knows this stupid boy is willing to just throw himself into Eichen after her even after she tells him he’s going to die if he stays. She knows he’s willing to come back for her even when it’s too dangerous to be there. She knows he won’t run when she tells him to not just because he cares about her, but because he doesn’t care what happens to him. Because even though he saved her in so many ways a couple of nights ago, he’ll never see himself as a hero. 

So she waits until she can make sure he’s looking at her, so maybe he can understand how much he means to her. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

His eyes are still closed when she cups his cheek in her hands, but after a moment he opens them to look at her, holding his breath at the expression on her face. His chest feels too tight to speak for a long moment, so he doesn’t; he just holds her gaze. Then he lifts a hand to cover one of hers, nodding ever so slightly. “My dad said...something about resetting the balance when you take a life,” he murmurs. “That even when it’s in self-defense, you never feel...right again.” 

And he’d already known that. Donovan wasn’t the first person who died because of him. Far from it. He tries not to think about it too much. “He said when you save one it helps restore things.” 

Lydia searches his eyes as he talks, glad that he’s accepting her being grateful for his life rather than trying to shut her down. It’s a start. And there’s no doubt in her mind that he saved hers. “How do you feel?”

He considers that for a moment, pressing his lips together. “Like helping save you...saved me, too,” he whispers.

She relaxes a little, brushing her thumb over his cheek, her expression softening as she nods. “You did save me, Stiles. Not just-- for coming up with a plan and helping take me out of Eichen but-- I heard you,” she whispers quietly. “At the clinic. After I screamed. I heard your voice.”

Stiles stares at her for a moment, realization dawning on him. “The way you brought me back after the ritual.” Emotional tethers. He had no idea it worked both ways. 

Her eyes widen a little at that and she stares back at him. “I hadn’t thought of that.” But it does make sense. Especially considering Stiles is the person she feels the closest to right now. They’ve been through so much and she _does_ feel connected to him.

“We should talk to Deaton,” he tells her quietly, searching her eyes. 

Lydia nods slightly, eyes still on his. “Yeah. I guess research will have to wait, anyway.”


	3. Chapter 3

Her head is still spinning from their conversation with Deaton as she watches Stiles move around his kitchen as he cooks. Because apparently yes, the tether _is_ permanent. But no, the ritual didn’t create it. They already had it. It was just a natural connection between them that was intensified in a supernatural sense because of the ritual. 

It’s not surprising, and in theory, it doesn’t change anything other than the fact that they’re now aware of this connection but-- she has been dreading being away from Stiles since she woke up at the clinic the other night. And she can’t explain why.

Lydia sighs softly as she shifts on her chair, sitting up a little. “Are you sure I can’t help you with anything? I could at least chop stuff up for you and still be sitting down.” 

His lips curl upwards at her words and he glances back at her momentarily, then nods. “I guess you can do that, yeah. I could make some vegetable soup, too.” Besides, he hasn’t really been home much the last couple days and as much as he likes her house, he kinda misses his, too. Plus, he knows his dad won’t care if Lydia is there for any length of time. His dad likes Lydia a great deal. 

He’s not surprised at all by the information Deaton had given them. He’d felt a connection to her long ago, even before the supernatural became a thing they were dealing with. He’d just felt stupid for feeling that way considering she barely knew who he was. “Do you like vegetable soup?” 

“Yeah.” She brightens at the possibility of actually being able to help with something, even if it’s just chopping up vegetables. “I haven’t had homemade soup in ages.” Probably since her grandma was still around. 

“I’ll let my mom know we’re staying here for dinner,” she says, not giving him a chance to really change his mind as she reaches for her phone.

Stiles nods, watching her for a moment before heading to the fridge and pulling out some of the vegetables he’d bought a few days before. Fortunately they hadn’t gone bad. Vegetable soup would be a good way to use them up before they ended up going bad. God knows his dad wouldn’t dream of just pulling a carrot stick out of the fridge and eating it by itself. He sighs a little and grabs a couple different sized knives, carrying the things over to her, and setting a cutting board beside them. 

He can’t quite resist the urge to rest his hand on her shoulder even if it’s just for a moment; a brief fleeting touch, a point of contact that eases his nerves almost instantly before he returns to the stove to work on the grilled chicken and brown rice.

Lydia offers him a soft smile. “Thank you,” she says when he brings everything over and after sending her mom a text, she starts chopping up the vegetables. “Is your dad working late tonight?”

“Probably. His work load’s kinda heavy right now with...everything.” He grimaces and turns the chicken in the pan, glancing back at her. “You think your mom will be okay with you being out of the house?” He really doesn’t want his visiting rights revoked again.

“I think so.” Lydia purses her lips together for a second. “There’s probably very little I can’t get away with right now.” Not that her mom has always been super controlling. Actually she’s mostly very absent. She goes through phases of freak outs whenever there’s a near death experience and then she gets over it. But since she feels so guilty about what happened at Eichen, and since Lydia is pretty sure her mom now knows Stiles is not just gonna let her do anything crazy, she knows it won’t be a problem.

He lifts his eyebrows at that and sneaks another look at her. “Well, that’s good to know for reference,” he jokes.

“Why? Are you expecting to get me into trouble in the near future?” she teases, cocking her head and smirking a little at him.

“Well, I mean...we do live in Beacon Hills so that’s probably inevitable, isn’t it?” He smirks at her, too. 

“True. Speaking of which.” She takes a deep breath and grows a little more serious. “Have you heard from Scott and the others?” They have been pretty much glued to each other’s sides since she found him outside her house but it’s not like she’s been checking his texts and she _has_ been sleeping a lot.

“Yeah. Everyone’s doing okay. Full on research mode about the whole...Beast.” He presses his lips together and turns back to the stove, silent for a moment. “I think we’re going to have to find a way to deal with Theo before we can deal with the Beast.” There’s tension in his voice now that wasn’t there before.

“What do you mean deal with Theo? Isn’t he trying to deal with the beast too?” She asks quietly, not liking the tension that she hears in there at all.

“He wants to kill it. Because he wants to take its power.” He huffs, stirring the rice in the pan around the chicken and shaking his head. “Can you imagine what we’ll be facing if he actually manages to do that?” 

“Stiles.” Lydia looks down at the carrot she finished chopping for a second. She takes a moment to set it on a plate as she chooses her words carefully, then she sets the knife down and clasps her hands together. “Do you think if that happens-- if, if we don’t find any other way to stop him, or, even if we’re too late to help the chimera that is the beast. If we _have_ to go for the last resource. Do you think what I did to Valack would be strong enough to work against something like that?”

Stiles stills at the stove and then slowly turns to face her, troubled expression on his face. “I don’t know.” On the one hand, she _had_ exploded Valack’s head, and probably would have killed all of them if Parrish hadn’t been there to absorb her last scream at Eichen. On the other hand, he doesn’t want Lydia within five miles of the Beast, let alone in close enough proximity to try and shatter its head with a scream. 

Sighing softly, she looks at him and nods slightly as she turns to the vegetables again. He can’t know anymore than she can how her screams will work from now on. With Deaton’s help and the mistletoe they managed to dull her powers back to a manageable level. But the truth is, she’s kind of terrified of trying it on someone else. Especially with Stiles or anyone from the pack around.

He chews his lower lip for a few seconds, then rubs a hand over his face as he watches her. “I don’t want you around it,” he admits. “I know you will be, but I don’t like it. Just for the record.” He turns to face the stove again.

“Me?” She frowns at that, shaking her head. “What about you, Stiles?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “It’s not the same.” 

She hadn’t felt the urge to throw something at his head since she woke up at the clinic, but it’s good to know that it’s still there. “What do you _mean_ it’s not the same?” If she sounds like she’s more than a little pissed at him, it’s because she is. “How is it not the same?”

Oh he hears that anger in her voice and he heaves a sigh, turning the food on low to cook slower before turning to move over to the table. He sits down across from her, meeting her eyes. “We’re all gonna be around it. We aren’t people that run.” He reaches out and grabs the other peeler on the table and picks up a potato. “But the idea of _me_ being around it scares me a lot less than the idea of _you_ being around it.” 

“Well, I feel the exact same way about _me_ being around it and _you_ being around it.” She looks over at him for a moment, watching as he peels the potato for a second then sighing. “The only good thing is that at least this time I’ll have something more than a baseball bat to protect you with if it comes down to it. I just need to make sure I don’t _hurt_ you in the process.”

“And I have no way to protect you at all.” His voice is hushed. He never has, really. Not against Peter Hale, not against Jennifer Blake, or the nogitsune or Theo. 

She holds her breath for a second. “Then don’t worry about protecting me. Help me.”

He lifts his gaze to look at her again, meeting her eyes and nodding. “Teamwork.” 

“More than that,” she whispers quietly, shifting on her chair a little. “If we have this connection and-- if you helped me make it from Eichen back to the clinic and if werewolves need an anchor to control their powers. Maybe we can use it to help me with mine.” 

Stiles sits forward a little, eyes widening just a bit. “Wait -- like, I’m your anchor?” 

She hesitates a little at the look on his face. “Do you think it’d work?”

“Maybe. I mean, do you think it’ll help you focus?” This hasn’t occurred to him even though he’d thought about the tethers angle when she’d woken up.

“I think so. I mean, maybe it’s not a coincidence that we work well together, right? Maybe this helps with that, too?” Even if she’s still not sure about testing it with him around just yet. “It has worked before.”

He considers that for a long moment, looking lost in thought. “It always helped Scott when Allison was around,” he says softly. And he always feels calmer, more in control when Lydia’s around. More focused and determined. Maybe it _does_ work like that for banshees and tethers.

Lydia looks down at the cutting board and nods slightly. “And I’m pretty sure I heard your voice echoing seconds before I managed to see Malia with the desert wolf. If I hadn’t seen her, I wouldn’t have been able to help her.” 

Stiles blinks a couple times at that. “What? What do you mean?” 

“She didn’t tell you? About-- Deaton and going after her mom with Braeden?” She asks quietly, unsure if she said too much, but there’s no way they don’t know about that, right?

“Yeah, but she didn’t mention anything about you screaming or anything,” he tells her, eyebrows furrowing as he leans forward.

“I watched it happen. I mean, I was still in a catatonic state, but it was kind of like what happened at the library. It was like I was standing right there with them. And Meredith was trying to help me help them.” Lydia shakes her head a little, pursing her lips together. “I can’t really explain how. But I knew what was happening, when it was happening. And when the Desert Wolf attacked her, I knew Malia didn’t have much time, so when I screamed, I guess it echoed in the warehouse where they were, and it hurt her enough to make them stop and buy her some time.” 

She looks over at Stiles, frowning a little harder. “I knew she wasn’t in danger anymore after that. But if she didn’t say anything-- maybe it wasn’t real?”

“Or she didn’t realize what it was,” he says, tapping his fingers on the table. “Which I think is more likely the case.” He meets her eyes and raises his eyebrows. “We haven’t really talked about what happened.” Because they weren’t really talking much at all.

“That would make sense too,” she adds quietly, glancing over at him as a sudden wave of guilt rolls over her. Of course they haven’t really talked about what happened. Not when he was busy rescuing her and now he’s been watching her every move for the past two days. And _Malia_ is his _girlfriend_ and Lydia suddenly feels sick with herself. “I guess you haven’t had much time to yourself at all.”

The change in her demeanor is subtle, but he knows her too well not to notice and he stares at her for a moment. “I haven’t exactly wanted any time to myself,” he tells her honestly.

She takes a deep breath and looks back at him. She can’t exactly ask him about Malia because-- that’d imply something between them that makes no sense to imply. But she’s not entirely sure how to deal with this. She can’t exactly tell him she has to go. She can’t even _go_ anywhere without him. “You know my mom can take tomorrow off, it’s not like anyone is gonna be upset they’re missing a chemistry class.” 

It takes him a second to figure out the cause of her mood change. “Lydia? Malia and I broke up. I hadn’t had a chance to tell you, but...we’re done.” Very done. They were just too different. He likes her, he hopes she finds someone who makes her happy, but they just don’t see eye to eye on much of anything. At the end of the day there’s no real emotional connection. He gazes at Lydia, and offers her a soft smile and shrugs. “We’re both fine.” 

Lydia blinks a few times in confusion as she stares over at him. “Oh.” And yes, it does help her relax and the knots in her stomach suddenly fade away, her chest no longer feels tight. It’s also no surprise that Stiles is perceptive enough to pick up on what she was trying to ask, but-- she’s sincerely surprised (and relieved) by the information. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He smiles a bit more when he sees her relax and drops his gaze as he works on peeling the potatoes once more. “Thanks.” He’s quiet for a moment. “She figured out what happened with Donovan but she never said anything. She was okay with it.” He hesitates. “She thought I just flat out killed him and she was all right with it.” 

She’s not really expecting details. Stiles’ relationship with Malia is something Lydia consciously stayed away from. In away, it always bothered her, but Stiles seemed happy and even if she didn’t see him as much as she’d have liked anymore, she wasn’t about to get in the way of his happiness because she _wasn’t_ happy. That isn’t the kind of friends they are. They want the best for each other, no matter the price. And regardless of what happens, she’d never want anything else to or from him. 

“Did you explain to her what happened?” Lydia asks carefully, not really wanting to take sides, but not wanting to make Stiles feel like it was the wrong decision either.

“No.” He glances up at her again and sighs softly. “I think she was just -- okay with believing it because she wants to kill her mother and she thinks I’d be okay with that too. I mean, I can’t even blame her for thinking that way with all the times I kinda casually suggest offing someone.” He looks down, shrugs. “Talking about is one thing, but actually doing it...I don’t wanna be one of the bad guys again.” 

Lydia frowns a little at that and shakes her head as she reaches over and places her hand on his arm. “You were never one of the bad guys, Stiles. I know what you’re saying. But-- I just need to remind you of that, okay?”

The smile he gives her is faint, barely there. “Thanks,” he says quietly. He knows she believes that and it means a lot. 

She holds his gaze for a moment and gives him a slight nod before pulling her hand back. “I hope that’s a line none of us has to cross again. But if it happens, I hope it’s never Scott.”

Stiles meets her eyes at that, chest tightening. He’d never wanted her to have to cross that line either. “You know that...that’s not your fault, right? It was self-defense. Open and shut case.” 

“I know.” She purses her lips into a faint smile. “The worst part about that is-- I do think that somewhere in his sick and twisted mind, he did think he was helping me. He did think he was going to help me help _you_. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just-- I had no control.”

He has a feeling Valack was a lot more concerned with saving his own ass rather than any of them, but he nods slightly at her words. “I know you didn’t.” Lydia isn’t the type of person to intentionally kill someone. She was too good of a person for that. “I think your scream is what loosened the lock on the door. Theo was trying, but he couldn’t break them down. If you hadn’t screamed, I wouldn’t have been able to get to you.” 

“I was terrified,” she says quietly, without really thinking about it. Everything was so loud and she was so sure she was going to hurt everyone _worse_ than what Meredith had told her. That she was going to kill everyone at Eichen. And then Stiles was running in her direction and she just remembers this wave of calmness and _peace_ wash over her… “I think the anchor thing already works, Stiles.” 

“So was I,” Stiles admits, his grip on the peeler tightening ever so slightly. He’d been terrified that he wouldn’t be able to get to her in time. That working with Theo even briefly would backfire even though he’d risked it. That Valack would hurt or kill Lydia before he saw her again. That he’d let her down. He hadn’t been thinking of the others or the possibilities of all of them getting hurt or dying. He’d had tunnel vision. Lydia was in danger and he didn’t care what it took to get her out and save her. He’d have done anything. 

He pauses at her words, though. “What do you mean?” 

“When you walked into the room… everything stopped,” she adds. “It was much worse before that, I felt like there was nothing I could do about it. I don’t know if I would have had time to warn you the second time if-- if it wasn’t _you_ there.” Everything was that much more overwhelming without him around. And while she still lost control twice more, both times were different. And luckily, she didn’t hurt anyone else.

“Oh.” His voice is hushed at that and he stares at her for a moment, then slowly sits back in his chair. “Wow.” 

Lydia takes a deep breath. “I mean, we obviously need more proof to be sure but… that’s twice, at least.” Just in the past couple of days. 

“So we need to test it,” he says carefully. 

“Not yet,” she answers immediately. “Not until we’re sure I’m not going to hurt you at all.” 

Stiles nods, watching her closely. “We’ll need to come up with a plan.” 

Her face softens and she looks at him for a second, then nods. “We will. We’re pretty good at that.” 

He smiles softly and meets her eyes. “Yeah. We are.” 

* * *

Stiles gets to school bright and early a few days later -- he hasn’t slept much and Lydia’s coming back today. He’d gone back mid-week last week, aced his chemistry test, got caught up on what he’d missed, and spent most of his free time with Lydia either at her house or at his own. He’s been actively ignoring the knowing looks his dad’s been giving him. He knows what his dad’s thinking, but he’s not sure where things with him and Lydia stand and he’s not going to push it. Especially not after everything she’s been through. 

He’s already stopped at his locker, gotten out all the books he’ll need for the first two class periods, and dropped his bag off in the room his English class is in. Then he made sure to tape the card he’d gotten for her to the front inside door of her locker, and that’s where he’s waiting when he spots her walking with her mom toward him. He lifts his hand in a wave and can’t help the smile that brightens his face. 

“I know, mom. I’ll text you or have someone come get you, if I--” She stops completely when she glances toward her locker and sees Stiles standing there. Admittedly, she was a little nervous about coming back to school. Not because of what people will think, or because of the whispering in the classroom or anything stupid like that. No. Mostly because she doesn’t want another episode like what happened at the library when she came with Stiles the other day. She doesn’t want to worry everyone even more. 

But seeing him standing there, smiling and waving at her, ready to welcome her back helps her relax about ninety percent. Because apparently their theories about him being able to anchor her were true, or at least, what they were able to test worked out. And he’ll be right there with her. 

“I’ll be okay, mom,” she says to Natalie, smiling brightly at her before adjusting her purse over her shoulder and making a beeline toward Stiles. “Hey.” 

Natalie smiles very faintly and shakes her head as she watches Lydia head toward Stiles before she turns to head to her office. 

“Hi,” Stiles greets her, reaching out and resting a hand on her arm. “How was your morning?” 

“Very uneventful, how was yours? You got here early.” And she has the urge to reach for his hand but she stops herself. At least for now. She knows there are plenty of eyes on her. On them.

“Boring. So...good.” He doesn’t think anything about the few students starting to trickle in through the doors. He doesn’t even notice them. “Ready for this?” 

“Yeah, I was getting tired of being home. I’m just gonna go to the library until third period.” She keeps her eyes on him for a second then turns to her locker. “I figured I can finish up on some research _and_ college applications since I’ve fallen behind on my schedule.”

He leans against the locker beside hers, watching her, searching for signs of fatigue or pain without realizing that’s what he’s doing. “I’d ask if you needed any help but I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to that one.” 

“I’m okay, Stiles,” she tells him quietly with a soft smile when she realizes what he’s doing. She doesn’t mind it, though. She knows he’s just worried about her. And she wants to reassure him that she’s okay as much as she can. “And I wouldn’t say no to help if you wanna come keep me company in the library during your free period,” she adds as she pulls the locker door open. And then pauses, cocking her head at the single white rose laying on top of her books.

“I can do that,” he tells her with a nod. “And I can drive you home at lunch or after lunch if you wanted to hang around for that.” He hopes she will, but he’d rather she rest if she needs it still. There’s no point in risking her health if there’s any danger at all. Not in his opinion.

She doesn’t really answer him as she reaches for the rose, only then noticing the card on the inside of the door. Not many people have the combination to her locker, in fact, she’s fairly sure Scott doesn’t remember it anymore, so the only one who would actually have access to it is standing there with her right now. She arches her eyebrows and glances at him, then picks up the card and pulls it out of the envelope carefully. 

Lydia can’t help but laugh quietly at the picture of several tiny wolf pups playing on the card, her eyes tearing up a little as she opens it to find welcome backs and feel betters from all of the pack members. She swallows hard, smiling more as she looks up at Stiles, doing her best not to cry. “Thank you.” 

He smiles back, stepping in closer and wrapping his arms around her without a second thought. “Welcome back, Lyds.” 

She hugs him tight instantly, closing her eyes for a second as she loses the battle and a couple of tears run down her face. Mostly just in relief, though. To be back in one piece. To have the pack back in one piece. To have all of them in her life. To have Stiles there with her. 

Stiles closes his eyes, exhaling and relaxing when she hugs him. He leans his head against hers momentarily before he pulls away, and when he sees the tears, he lifts a hand and wipes his thumbs over her cheeks, brushing them away. 

“Lydia?” Kira’s voice is hesitant, but the look on her face is pleased when she sees the banshee. 

Lydia smiles up at him, nodding slightly and she’s about to say something when she hears her name being called. She turns around and smiles at Kira, then at Scott, who’s standing next to her. “Hey guys.” 

“Hey Lyds, good to see you back,” Scott adds, walking up toward her and Stiles with Kira.

“It’s definitely good,” Kira agrees, giving her a quick hug before stepping aside to let Scott do the same.

She hugs both of them a little tighter than she normally would. When she pulls away, she holds up the card and the rose. “Thank you for both, it was a nice surprise,” she says sincerely. 

“I only knew about the card,” Scott says, arching his eyebrows at Stiles.

Kira barely suppresses a smile as she ducks her head. 

Stiles just shrugs a shoulder, and reaches out to get Lydia’s books for third period ready from her locker. 

Lydia’s face brightens a little as she looks from the other couple over to Stiles and reaches for his hand with her free one to get his attention. “In that case, thank you for the flower.” 

Scott wraps his arm around Kira’s shoulder and gently pulls her away from the other two. “We’ll see you guys at lunch!”

“See you at lunch,” Stiles responds, linking his fingers through Lydia’s when she takes his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you settled in the library.” 

She squeezes his hand gently, eyes on him as she walks with him toward the library, no longer aware if people are paying attention to them or not. “You don’t have to walk me all the way over there.” Even if she’s not at all protesting the company.

“Have to? No. Going to? Definitely.” He smiles softly. This time he _does_ notice that people are staring. And whispering. 

“Well--” She purses her lips together for a moment, then shrugs a shoulder and smiles brightly at him. “Good.” Both because she wants him to be there and because she wants to make sure nothing happens when she steps into the library this time. And if it does happen, that Stiles is there to hold her hand and make it look like nothing happened.

They walk in comfortable silence the rest of the way to the library and Stiles opens the door for her, glancing at her intently as they step inside. “Everything okay?” he murmurs, resting his hand on her lower back as he follows her.

She takes a moment to look around, to listen and make sure nothing is coming up before she lets out her breath and nods at him. “Yeah,” she whispers quietly, turning to look at him. “Everything is quiet. Let’s get a table toward the back.”

Stiles relaxes, leading her toward the back of the room behind the bookcases and pulling a chair out for her to sit in. “This work?” 

“Yeah.” Lydia sets her purse down on the table, placing the rose carefully on top of it. Once everyone is in class, she’ll run into her mom’s office and set it into a glass of water. “I’ll set up pack camp for the day here,” she tells him quietly as she sits down and looks up at him again.

He hesitates for a moment, gaze flickering nervously toward the front of the library. “Theo and his pack are probably here.” He’s already contemplating staying right there with her and skipping class. He’s pretty fluent in English already anyway.

“I’m pretty sure this is the best place to avoid them,” she teases quietly with a soft smile. Because she can pretty much read the idea popping into his head. “Go to class, Stiles. I’ll be okay. If anything comes up, I’ll scream. Promise.” 

He chews his lower lip, then sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna be texting you. A _lot_. Just so you know.” 

Lydia pauses for a second, squinting a little. “I realize that saying this to you is pretty pointless but: don’t get into trouble?” 

Stiles flashes her a bright smile, shifting closer and kissing her forehead without thinking about it. “Of course not.” He winks and heads away from the table. 

She can’t help but wish she’d let him skip class and stay there with her, too. But instead, she just watches him with a soft smile on her lips until he’s out of her line of sight. And then carefully sets her phone and the rose next to her books before she can start on her research.


	4. Chapter 4

“Stiles?” Lydia mumbles sleeply as she slowly lifts her head from-- not her pillow, not even her bed or her couch but a pile of books. Which isn’t unusual, really. She falls asleep while reading all the time. Just not-- usually at the school library. Which is a lot emptier than it was when she came here after lunch. 

Frowning, she feels herself tensing and getting on her feet instantly. Something’s happening. Something bad. She glances behind herself at the huge windows and her heart sinks when she realizes it’s mostly dark already. She was supposed to go watch the boys and Kira at practice. They must be done or nearly done if it’s already getting dark. And considering she didn’t miss a single day since she came back to school over a week ago, they wouldn’t have just left her there. 

Before she can even think about anything else, she’s running. Her heart racing as she heads straight for the lacrosse field. Definitely something bad. Something bad with _Stiles_. And maybe it’s not serious enough for her to get the full picture, but Stiles getting hurt at _all_ is already too much for her.

 

* * *

 

“What the hell are you doing with that thing here?” Stiles’ voice is quiet but demanding as he glares at Theo. He’d stayed behind to practice a little more, because he was really, _really_ bad and hadn’t practiced in ages. Because there hasn’t been _time_. Everything’s been crazy, as per Beacon Hills’ usual. 

Theo pauses, looks around for a second, then turns to look at Stiles. A smirk appearing on his lips immediately as he arches his eyebrows and adjusts his backpack over his shoulder. “What is it you’re accusing me of today, Stiles?” he asks easily.

“The helmet, Dumbass.” He tightens his fingers around the handful of wolfsbane he’d retrieved from his locker. He doesn’t know if it’ll work on chimeras -- the mountain ash doesn’t. But it might be nice to know if it’s a weakness that he can use against Theo when he needs to.

Theo rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I don’t have time for you today, Stiles. I’m busy looking for the _actual_ bad guy,” he adds, turning around and starting across the lacrosse field, toward the parking lot.

“Oh, so you _haven’t_ looked in a mirror today, I take it. That explains your hair.” Okay so it’s not his best insult. 

With a sigh, Theo shakes his head. “At least my head is still intact,” he calls, throwing Stiles a smirk over his shoulder. 

His eyes narrow and he can’t stop himself from striding forward and punching Theo hard in the face. “We can always change that,” he growls.

He sees it coming, of course. By the time Stiles reaches him, he already tossed his backpack far away from them toward the parking lot, but he doesn’t have enough time to dodge the punch. He does, however, punch Stiles back. Not in the face, but full on his ribs.

He hits the ground hard, but he’s pissed and running on adrenaline -- because fury and adrenaline are the things Stiles usually runs on. He’s up again quickly, ignoring the pain and letting the wolfsbane drop to the ground. “Guess that answers _that_ question. Thanks for making it so easy.” He brushes his hands off on his lacrosse pants. 

In one swift move, Theo grabs Stiles by the neck and throws him down on the ground a second later. Wasting no time before sitting on his stomach, eyes narrowed but smirking. “And what was your trick this time?”

Stiles smirks back at him. “Hate to break it to you, asshole, but you’re really _not_ my type.” 

That’s all Lydia sees as she’s running into the field: Theo punching Stiles, Stiles barely balancing himself back up and then Theo throwing him down on the ground. She’s seeing red. Breathing heavily. She’s _livid_.

“Get the hell away _FROM HIM!_ ” It’s all instinct. She screams the last couple of words, raising her left hand as she approaches the two of them. And the next thing she knows, Theo is no longer sitting on top of Stiles, but a good ten, maybe fifteen feet on the air, headed straight for the bleachers.

“She is,” he adds with a faint smile as Theo goes flying. He rolls onto his side and pushes himself up into a sitting position, and watching with satisfaction as the chimera hits the stands hard. “Thanks, Lyds.” 

Lydia, however, is watching Theo hit the stands in horror. She winces a little, but when Stiles thanks her, her attention is back on him. She kneels down next to him, a hand on his shoulder immediately as she watches him closely. “Are you okay?”

“I’m all right.” Maybe a cracked rib or two. He winces as he glances at her and covers her hand with his own. 

She winces when he does, eyes on his face. “Be careful, let me help you up.” Because she’s definitely planning on taking him straight to Melissa.

“My heroine,” he says fondly as he lets her help him to his feet. He glances over to where Theo’s picking himself up off the ground. 

Pursing her lips together, she looks over at Theo, a little relieved to see him in one piece, no matter how much she wants to choke him for hurting Stiles. She doesn’t want to lose control like that. “Let’s go,” she whispers quietly to Stiles, pulling him toward the school.

He lets her tug him toward the school without protest, and he only glances back once -- to make sure Theo’s not about to attack from behind. Instead, the chimera’s standing in the bleachers with a stunned expression on his face that Stiles can’t help but smirk at. “Where’d you come from?” he asks curiously. 

“The library.” She keeps her arm wrapped securely around his back as she leads him toward the boy’s locker room. She thinks it’s a fairly safe assumption his things are still there. “What happened?”

“He has that helmet from Eichen. The one Valack was going to use on you. I wanted to know what he was planning to do with it. Also, for the record, wolfsbane apparently also has no effect on chimeras.” He makes his way toward his locker, spinning the combination. 

“You thought it was a good idea to figure that out _while_ pissing him off? Stiles, we really need to talk about your plans,” she says, arching her eyebrows as she watches him.

“They always look good on paper,” he defends, opening the locker and stuffing his helmet and lacrosse stick inside it. 

“Then we obviously need to work on execution.” She cocks her head a little. “Hows your rib? You winced when you sat up.” 

“A little sore. I’m fine, though,” he tells her. “Just bruised.” 

“I think I’d prefer if Melissa decided if you’re really just bruised,” she says, looking down at his chest and pursing her lips together. Lydia hesitates before taking a step forward and lifting a hand toward his side. “Can I check?”

“Lydia, if you’re about to tell me you’ve also developed x-ray vision, I’m going to officially be both jealous and kinda pissed,” he jokes.

She gives him a look as she steps closer, carefully placing her hand on his ribs, running her fingers over his side gently but with just enough pressure that she can feel his bones. Not extremely well because of the slippery material of his shirt, but… “I don’t need to be Superman to know if there’s a bone sticking out of your body, Stiles. Besides, I do have a 4.0 in AP biology and that _includes_ human anatomy.” And because she doesn’t feel anything out of place, she does smirk softly and looks up at him when she says that.

He licks his lips nervously at the sudden lack of space between them and his eyes darken just a little at her close proximity. “So it does,” he responds, staring at her intently.

Her smirk slips a little when she realizes the way he’s looking at her. Lydia holds his gaze, heart skipping a beat as she places her hand over his side rather than just her fingertips. Still careful not to hurt him. “As far as I can tell, you’re okay.” 

He nods at that, just slightly, not taking his eyes off her and lifting a hand to rest on her arm. “Told you so?” It’s meant to be a joke, but his voice is quieter than joking. 

Lydia smiles a little at the joke, but unconsciously licks her lips because they suddenly just feel extremely dry. Then, without warning, she presses her free hand firmly to his chest, shifting just a little closer. “Take a deep breath and hold it for a couple of seconds, tell me if it hurts.”

His eyes follow the quick movement of her tongue and then she’s shifting closer to him and pressing a hand against his chest, and his back against the locker beside his own. He does what she says, but shakes his head a little. “Doesn’t hurt.” But he’s slightly terrified anyway. 

She bites on the inside of her bottom lip and nods, letting her hand rest there for just a second longer before dropping both hands from him. “Okay. That’s good.” 

Even as she drops her hand away, he lifts his to her cheek, swallowing heavily and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, thumb grazing her soft skin. 

Lydia is about to take a step back when he reaches out, so she pauses, standing where she is (which is pretty damn close to him). She leans into his touch a little and keeps her eyes on his but doesn’t move otherwise. Because she’s fairly sure she just scared him a little.

“Lydia?” He shifts just a little closer to her, tilting her face up toward his the tiniest bit. 

She lifts her head, her eyes softening just as her heart starts beating faster against her chest. “Stiles.” 

He rests his other hand on her left hip, holding her gaze for a long moment before dipping his head enough to brush a tender kiss against her mouth. It’s hesitant, unsure, like he’s not certain she’s okay with being kissed -- here and now, or by him, at all. 

As soon as he starts to lean closer, she leans forward just a little. When she realizes how hesitant he is, she lifts her hands to his arms and inches forward, pressing her lips to his with just a little more pressure. Not enough to take control, but enough to tell him she’s okay with this. She’s been okay with this for a long time. She’s been _wanting_ this for a while now, but she’s doing her best to hold back not to overwhelm him like she just did a few seconds ago.

His eyes shut as soon as she meets him halfway in the kiss and a second later, he’s cradling her face with both hands, gently, like she’s made of precious glass. His heart is beating quickly, faster than even the last time they’d kissed because he’d been so caught off guard he hadn’t had time to think and process what was happening. His brain had just shut down entirely. 

After a moment, he leans his forehead against hers and takes a slow breath. 

Lydia doesn’t try to deepen the kiss or to change the pace. When he breaks away, she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes just slightly, lifting a hand to his cheek too and brushing her thumb over his jaw gently as she gives him time. Because since she woke up at the clinic, no. Since she saw him running toward her at Eichen, _this_ , him. It’s been so clear for her. But something tells her that this dumb boy. No. _Her_ dumb boy has no idea. 

“That just happened, right?” His voice is barely audible and he can’t help but lean into her touch when she brushes her thumb against his jaw. He opens his eyes and pulls back just enough to look at her. 

She grins softly, her face bright as she watches him and nods just a little. “Yeah, it did.” And when he leans into her touch, she cups his face a little more in her hand. Part of her wants to make a joke about it being the second time it happens right here. But most of her just wants to watch him as he absorbs this. 

“Oh. Good.” His own face breaks out into a grin, pleased and bordering on giddiness. “And uh -- we’re on the same page right? That was -- okay? I mean, it was definitely better than okay but I mean -- you’re okay with that?” 

Lydia can’t help but laugh quietly at the look on his face, she shakes her head a little, then stands up straight as she holds his gaze and reaches out to cup his face in both of her hands (and maybe she’s tiptoeing a little on top of her heels to get her point across). “Stiles, look at me.” 

And to compensate for her tiptoeing, he rests both of his hands on her hips to make sure she stays steady on her feet and doesn’t fall. It’s just an instinctual move on his part. He meets her eyes, searching them curiously, intently, like he’ll find the answers to every question about the universe there because he thinks he just might if he looks long enough. “Yeah?” 

She holds his gaze for a moment longer then leans in and presses her lips firmly to his once more. Just for a second, just long enough to make her point. When she pulls back, she’s smiling brightly, her hands still on his face, thumbs gently brushing his cheek. “Does that answer your question?”

Stiles grins, eyes brighter than they have been in a long time. “Well...I should probably double check to be sure…” He leans in and kisses her again, nose brushing lightly against hers. 

This time, she’s actually expecting it, so she doesn’t hesitate before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer as she kisses him back. Because even if he was hesitant a few seconds ago, she knows Stiles catches on quickly. 

Stiles wraps his arms around her back, slowly deepening the kiss even as she moves closer to him. He loves her. He’s always loved her. It’s always been Lydia. He’s been trying to deny it for so long that the realization is a relief. 

Lydia only breaks the kiss when she’s breathless. And even then, she just turns her head and presses a soft kiss to his cheek as she hugs him tighter. “I guess you really do pass the test. You’re not injured,” she teases quietly as she rests her forehead against his cheek.

“I’m definitely not injured.” He rests a hand on the back of her head, leaning his head against hers. “What do you say we get outta here?” 

“Good idea.” She kisses his cheek one more time before she pulls away enough to look at him. “I just need to stop by the library to get my things.” 

“I’ll get changed and meet you there?” he suggests, raising his eyebrows. 

Lydia takes a deep breath at that, hesitating now as she looks around the empty locker room for a completely different reason. “Maybe-- I’ll just wait for you outside and we can go to the library together.” Just in case Theo is still around and extremely pissed off she tossed him halfway across the field.

Stiles glances toward the door momentarily, then back at her, as though reading her mind. “Yeah, that...might be better. Except the part where you’re outside by yourself. I don’t like that part.” He grabs his regular clothes from his locker. “I’ll change over there and you can just -- stay right here, okay?”

She smiles a little at him and nods, glancing him as he walks away for a second. “Okay.” She’s a little more comfortable with this choice, anyways.

He smiles, too, moving to the opposite side of the lockers, and changing clothes quickly, buttoning up his flannel shirt as he makes his way back around to where she’s standing moments later. He stuffs his lacrosse uniform into his locker and holds his arm out to her the way he’d done once upon a time at a dance before they really knew each other. 

Lydia takes his arm without hesitation and smiles at him. “I’m really sorry I missed practice,” she says quietly as they start out of the locker room.

Stiles glances at her sideways with a soft smile. “It’s okay. It was terrible so.” He shrugs. 

 

“Why terrible?” she asks with a slight pout as she hugs his arm a little more with her own. “You were doing a lot better yesterday.” 

He pauses at that, considering. “Yeah, I was,” he says slowly, as though an idea is dawning on him. 

Lydia cocks her head when she sees that look on his face, eyes narrowing slightly. “What is it?”

“There was only one difference between yesterday’s practice and today’s, Lydia.” He gives her a look. “Yesterday you were there.” 

“And today I fell asleep in the library,” she says, a soft smile appearing on her lips. “Stiles, are you saying I’m your lacrosse anchor?” she teases.

“Well, I was going for my own personal lacrosse cheerleader, but…” He shrugs a shoulder, smirking. 

“I have always wished we had cheerleading here,” she says with a smirk right back at him, eyes on his face. “Your own personal cheerleader might help fulfill that need.”

Stiles grins at her. “Are you going to find a cheerleading costume too?” His eyes are full of mischief now.

She’s a little surprised by the question, so she presses her lips together and looks at him for a moment. It takes her a second, as she takes in the look on his face, to manage not to laugh. But when she feels like she’s in control, she clears her throat, arches her eyebrows and cocks her head. “What do you mean-- _find_ one?”

And he’s completely thrown off guard by her answer and the serious expression on her face and his eyes widen. “Wha -- you already _have_ \--- oh my _god._ ”

Lydia does laugh this time at the look on his face, she really didn’t expect that reaction and she can’t even answer him, she’s laughing so hard.

The laughter earns her narrowed eyes and a scowl that’s not quite real. “You’re just trying to get me to have a heart attack. That’s the only explanation,” he mumbles as he grabs her hand and leads her out of the locker room. 

She squeezes his hands and leans in, then presses a kiss to his cheek but remains silent. She already knows what he’s getting for his birthday if things go as planned.

 

* * *

 

After third period, Stiles meets Lydia in the library and they spend all of fourth period researching. The librarian has to shush them twice as they engage in a heated debate about the possible identity of the beast, and then about whether or not he should see if Theo or his pack were immune to silver or to mistletoe. By the time the bell rings for lunch, he’s agreed that it’s probably safer if he doesn’t attempt either considering the bruises on his ribs he’s sporting from just yesterday. 

He gathers up their things, slings his backpack onto his back, scoops up her books in his right arm and slides his fingers through hers with the other, almost nonchalantly, like this is a routine they’ve had for years. In a way, it feels like it is. It feels natural to him, like breathing. 

It feels natural to her too. Like this is exactly where she belongs. Like this is what they should have been doing all along. She pulls her purse over her shoulder and smiles up at him as they make their way out of the library. It was never this easy for her before, but then again, she was never so close to anyone before. So openly _herself_. Stiles has, very literally, seen her at her worst and she has seen him. 

And while she knows he still has some insecurities based on their conversation last night -- which included a lot of ‘are you sures’ and ‘it changes things’ -- she’s determined to do her best to show him that yes, she’s sure and that the changes will be _good_ changes. They’re both better and stronger when they’re together, obviously and again, literally.

“I can help you with the book, you know? You’re injured,” she says, reaching out to take the massive biology book from him at least.

“I’m not _that_ injured,” he points out even though he lets her take the book from him. “But that will free up my hands to grab our lunch trays I guess.” 

“Or, I could take all of the books and go grab us a table while you go get food for both of us,” she points out, smirking up at him. “Something about teamwork?”

Stiles glances at her sideways, then stops walking, shrugging out of his backpack and sliding it onto her back instead. “Fair enough.” He kisses her cheek.

Lydia’s eyes widen and the takes a step back to regain her balance when he slides his backpack onto her shoulders, her hand reaching out and grabbing onto his arms as soon as he leans closer. “What the hell do you have in here?”

A chuckle escapes him. “Books from English and Chemistry, plus a copy of the Bestiary, and a book of legends on supernatural beings from the late 1800’s. Also my iPod, an apple, a calculator, a couple notebooks and pens, and…” He fumbles through his backpack’s pocket and pulls out his keys. “These.” 

“Put that back before you lose them,” she warns, shaking her head as she reaches for his hand again, but only once the keys are _safely_ inside the backpack once more.

“You asked,” he points out with a grin and a shrug.

“Smartass,” she teases, then stops walking and tugs on his hand just before they enter the cafeteria.

“Yeah, but I’m _your_ smartass,” Stiles says, letting her pull him to a stop. “What’s up?” 

She grins up at him and lets go of his hand before reaching up to cup the back of his neck and kissing him softly for a second. “Nothing,” she answers as she pulls away with a smile. Lydia then reaches for his hand again and continues into the cafeteria. And yes, it’s very likely that she did this for his ego, and that she chose this particular, very visible spot both for people standing in line for lunch and people coming out of the classrooms for a reason. But she’ll never tell.

His eyes light up when she cups the back of his neck and pulls him in for a kiss. He’s not even thinking about how many people are probably watching them. It doesn’t dawn on him until they start walking again that half the cafeteria is gaping open-mouthed and he casts a sidelong glance at her, smirk tugging at his mouth. “That’s my girl.” 

“Yes, I am,” she responds, grinning brightly up at him as she leans against his side for a moment. “Now go get me food, I’ll go get us a table.”

Stiles drops a kiss to her forehead before winking at her and heading toward the lunch line. 

As soon as he gets in line, Scott bumps right into him, unable to fully stop before doing so. “ _Dude?_ ”

Stiles grins at him. “Hey, Scottie.” He pats his shoulder.

Scott arches his eyebrows at Stiles even though he can’t help but start to smile back at his best friend. “You and Lydia?”

He glances across the room to where Lydia’s sat down at the table, Kira right across from her. He can’t help but smile a little brighter. “Yeah. I think my timeline can be seriously readjusted.” 

“You mean your ten year plan?” Scott asks as he glances at the girls too, a full on grin on his face as he wraps an arm over Stiles’ shoulders.

“That’d be the one.” He moves forward in the line and grabs three trays, handing one to Scott. 

Scott takes one of the trays, then picks up an extra one for Kira. “Are you gonna tell me what’s happening, or are you just gonna let me assume you finally picked up on the way she’s been looking at you for the past few weeks?”

Stiles starts to grab some things off the buffet line, glancing at Scott momentarily as he moves forward. “I guess the whole...Eichen thing kinda woke me up. You know?”

He nods a little, smiling as he walks behind Stiles. “I’m glad it did. And everything is good then?”

“Yeah. Dude, everything’s great.” He hasn’t felt this happy in years. 

“Happy for you, dude,” Scott says, patting his shoulder. “Both of you.” 

“Thanks, Scott.” His voice is quiet and he looks across the room to where the girls are watching them. He lifts his free hand in a wave, and glances at Scott. “Oh, and we have some theories on that other thing. We should have a meeting after school, get together and talk about it.” 

Scott sighs a little at that, growing serious but nods as he shifts the trays in his hands. “Okay, we can go to my house.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He picks up the two trays he’s filled and leads the way back to the table where Kira and Lydia are sitting, carefully setting one down in front of his girlfriend and then sitting down beside her. 

Lydia looks up at him when they walk over smiling brightly and this time, she’s no longer paying attention to all of the attention _they_ are getting. That hasn’t been her thing for a long time. “Thank you,” she says as he sits down next to her.

“You’re welcome.” He reaches out and rests his left hand over her right one before popping a fry into his mouth. 

She shifts her hand and links her fingers with his before picking up her fork and eating a piece of fruit because, of course Stiles knows exactly what she normally gets for lunch. She takes a deep breath and shifts just a little closer to him before smiling over at Scott, at Kira and settling for her lunch.

 

* * *

 

“Are you done yet?” Lydia asks as she looks up from her laptop over at her boyfriend. She’s laying on her stomach over her bed and with a deep breath she pulls the laptop shut. “I swear if I read this application one more time, I _will_ scream.”   
“This essay is a nightmare,” he responds, rubbing a hand over his face. “Why did I let you talk me into this?” 

“Because you love me,” she says simply, smiling brightly at him as she sits up then moves to stand up. “And you can’t stand to think of going anywhere other than to Stanford with me, because that would ruin the vision. Completely.” 

His lips quirk upwards at that. “I do,” he agrees, glancing up at her. He scoots his chair back a little ways and reaches out, tugging her down til she’s sitting on his lap. “And the vision improved a lot in the past few months.” 

Lydia sits down easily, smiling at him as she wraps her arms around his neck and leans against his chest then presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Did it? How did it improve?” 

“Well, for one. I’m no longer afraid Scott won’t be my best friend for life.” He kisses her chin and leans back into the chair more, gazing up at her. “For two, we all survived the Dread Doctors, The Beast, Theo, _and_ the Desert Wolf. Go us. And for three…” He tugs her a little closer. “I didn’t have to wait eight more years for this to happen, so. I’m counting it as a victory.” 

She reaches a hand to cup his face, then brushes his hair gently as she watches him talk, pausing a little when he adds the last past. “Wait, eight years? Scott said you had a ten year plan? That doesn’t add up.”

“Well yes, but the ten year plan started at the beginning of sophomore year,” he explains. “Then by the end of sophomore year I was thinking it was going to end up being a fifteen year plan, which would have put us at about...31 years old.” 

Lydia wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “No, we’re gonna have to talk about your timeline here. Because, I have other plans by the time we’re 31. They include, at the very least, owning a house,” she points out. “And yes, Scott and Kira can live next door.”

His eyes light up. “I’m thinking if we plan well, we can have a house by the time we’re 25,” he tells her. “But no, the original timeline was 10 years from the start of sophomore year, and then it was pushed back to fifteen because of things that came up but now it’s obviously much less than that.” 

“I think 25 is definitely doable since we’ll obviously have to move back here because of the pack and at least Beacon Hills doesn’t have terribly expensive real estate as far as California goes,” she agrees, shifting on his lap until she’s laying her head on his shoulder. “What else are you planning?”

He winds his arms around her, resting his head against hers. “I kinda wanted to wait to plan the rest together,” he admits. 

She shifts a little and hooks her arms under his, pressing her nose against his neck and smiling softly. “Our plans do usually work out better when we plan together, anyway.” 

“Yeah, they do.” He tangles one hand in her hair and closes his eyes. “Teamwork.”


End file.
